


wish I could take you all to where I must go

by tfm



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-19 06:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22573141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfm/pseuds/tfm
Summary: Beau makes a deal. The Mighty Nein aren't going to stand for that, two members in particular.Meanwhile, Beau struggles to survive in a dangerous and unfamiliar place.Or, an alternate ending to episode 93.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Yasha, Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Jester Lavorre & Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre & Beauregard Lionett & Yasha, Jester Lavorre & Yasha, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Jester Lavorre/Yasha, implied pre-relationship - Relationship
Comments: 22
Kudos: 372





	1. I

The door swung open.

‘Come in, little one,’ came Isharnai’s eerie voice. ‘Your curse is broken.’

Never mind the curse, there was only one thing in the world that Yasha Nydoorin considered important right now. ‘Where’s Beau?’

For Beau had gone into the hag’s cottage, but when the door swung open, the hag’s voice echoing out, Beau was nowhere to be seen. Yasha stepped forward to the door, her hand gripping the handle of Skingorger. From the doorway, she could see inside the hut. A shiver went down her spine, as though someone had poured freezing cold water over her. There was only the hag, a creepy, leering look on her face. Dead lips curled into a dead smile.

‘She made her deal.’

Yasha didn’t like the sound of that. ‘What deal did she make?’ she demanded.

Isharnai stepped out into the sunlight, and Yasha half expected her to burst into flames. There, in front of the cabin, she looked at each of them in turn. ‘To break the curse, she walked away from the only source of happiness in her life.’ Yasha’s stomach roiled. The hag laughed. ‘Fresh, new misery.

‘I don’t understand.’ Jester sounded sad, but it was a confused sort of sad, unlike the enraged grief that was starting to fill Yasha from head to foot. ‘She just left us?’

‘She did say that being with us was the only time she had ever been happy,’ Fjord commented, to the group as a whole, rather than to Jester. ‘I…Why would she want to give that up?’

Yasha was not thinking about that. She was thinking about what the hag must have done to trick Beau into…into leaving her.

‘You said the misery must be freely given,’ Yasha said. She ran a finger along the blade of the Skingorger. Isharnai laughed.

‘It _was_ freely given.’ The words made Yasha shiver for more than one reason. Firstly, the hag’s voice was…well, it was creepy. Second, the hag was telling them that Beau had volunteered to be exiled to a faraway place, in exchange for Nott’s freedom. She gripped her sword tighter.

‘What do you mean?’ Jester demanded. The tiefling had her own fists clenched, and Yasha could have sworn she’d seen pink sparks fly.

‘I mean that your friend _volunteered_ an exchange. Without…hesitation. A life for a life. I break the curse, and in return…well, she would never return.’

‘That may be,’ Yasha said, slowly. ‘But there is still misery that was not freely given. The misery of six, compared to the misery of one. You took something that did not belong to you.’ She stepped forward.

Isharnai laughed again, but Yasha was sure she could sense an undercurrent of fear. ‘If you kill me, she will be lost to you forever.’

‘If we let you live, she will be lost just the same.’ Caleb had lit up both of his hands with balls of fire. Isharnai laughed – no, _cackled_ – and her whole form seemed to shift and grow. She loomed over them, arms looking more like overgrown tree branches than ever.

It was Jester, surprisingly, who made the first move. While the rest of them were standing steadfastly, Jester called down divine flame from the sky. Yasha felt grief and rage and fear wash over her, and the world narrowed to the smallest pinprick. There were flames, and swords, and all other manner of things around her, but all that mattered was killing Isharnai.

_Skingorger_ arced a slice downwards; it should have hit flesh (Yasha tried very hard not to think about the last time it had bit into humanoid flesh. Then, she remembered that the hag wasn’t exactly humanoid). The sword hit something, but it didn’t seem to have the effect that Yasha thought that it should have. Isharnai laughed again, and her form morphed once more, torso and arms thickening, her head almost seeming to shrink.

She pointed one gnarled finger towards Yasha, and Yasha felt an overwhelming agony hit her. She blinked, and realized she was surrounded by the bodies of her friends. Jester and Fjord and Caduceus, lying dead. Beau lying dead. Molly and Zuala, dead. Their bodies, twisted, eyes open, mocking her. Blaming her. She blinked again, and the vision disappeared. It was meant to terrify her, she knew. What Isharnai didn’t know was that she could conjure up nothing more powerful than the nightmares that plagued her almost every evening, of the exact same fears.

‘You will have to try harder than that to frighten me,’ Yasha growled, and went in for two more slices. Green and pink and red flashes burst around her, which she supposed was spells from the others, though she wasn’t paying quite enough attention to realize who. Several of Nott’s crossbow bolts pierced the witch’s thick, barky looking skin.

‘I will take that as a challenge.’ Isharnai seemed to move far faster than Yasha would have expected, lashing out with her mouth and her claws. Her teeth hit the solid metal of the breastplate that Yasha still wore, but she was not so lucky as to avoid the twin arcs of slashing claws that followed, sending flecks of Yasha’s blood flying. The pain was somehow dulled by her rage. Recklessly, she took two more swings with the sword, and carved a chunk from one of the enormous arms. No sooner than she had pulled back from the second swing, the arms had wrapped around her, pulling her into a bonecrushing embrace. Ribs cracked like old twigs, piercing her lungs, and filling them with blood.

Yasha laughed. ‘Do you really thing you can do worse to me than what’s already been done?’ she spat, perfectly willing to sacrifice whatever ability to breath she might have to be able to spit in the hag’s face.

‘I can see into your mind, swamp-dweller.’ Isharnai grinned, her rotting teeth the color of stagnant water, her breath so pungent that Yasha felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. ‘Your fresh misery is far greater than any of theirs. Even after I am gone, you will never find her.’ Yasha gave a roar of anger, and, with all the strength she had in the world, tore free from the Isharnai’s grasp. Then, with one mighty swing that sent a wave of muted agony through her body, she chopped off the hag’s head.

Rage subsiding, she dropped to her knees, the anger quickly overtaken by fear and grief. Beau could not be gone. She had survived so much to be just…sent away by this…evil woman. She coughed, and blood dripped down her chin.

‘Yasha!’ Yasha was vaguely aware of Jester running towards her, putting a cold hand to her shoulder. A dull warmth spread through her, and she could almost hear her bones and her skin knitting itself back together.

The world came back to her, all of a sudden, and Yasha watched as Fjord exited the witch’s hut.

‘She’s not in there,’ he said, grimly. He did not need to explain which “she” he was talking about. Beau had seemingly vanished without a trace. ‘I had thought perhaps that killing Isharnai might have brought her back.’

‘I do not think we will be that lucky,’ Caleb said, wiping a line of bloody sweat from his brow. He too, it seemed, had been the target of the razor-sharp claws.

‘I’m going to _Send_ her a message,’ Jester announced. She sat, cross-legged on the ground, and closed her eyes. After about thirty seconds, her eyes opened, and there were tears welling in the corner of them. ‘You guys, it’s not working! I don’t think the message is going through. You don’t think…’ She paused, and choked back a sob. ‘You don’t think she’s dead, do you?’ An awkward silence was the only answer that she got. Fjord looked around uncomfortably. ‘Let me try _Scrying_.’ Jester closed her eyes once more, and once again opened them in tears after half a minute. ‘The Traveler said he couldn’t find her on this Plane. What does that mean? That maybe she’s on another Plane?’

‘Jester, we need to get out of here. I don’t think this is the sort of place we really want to linger.’ Fjord sounded tired. He didn’t particularly sound as though he _wanted_ to leave without Beau, but the sun was going down, and they didn’t know what kinds of things might come out at night.

‘No!’ Jester jumped to her feet. ‘What if she gets sent back here because we killed the witch, and we’ve all gone! We can’t just leave now!’

Yasha was torn. Personally, she did not think that there was anything to be gained by staying, but if they left now, and Beau returned, then Yasha would not be able to forgive herself for leaving the other woman alone.

‘I can put up the dome,’ Caleb offered, before anyone else said anything. ‘It will give us some protection, and we will be here in case Beauregard returns.’

Fjord and Caduceus both seemed uneasy at the thought of staying, but deferred to the general consensus. For her part, Yasha did not sleep, but stayed sitting upright with the Skingorger across her lap, listening for any sign of…well, anything.

There was nothing.

It was strange. She had expected to hear normal sounds of the forest; animals wandering through, and the falling of branches, and things like that. There was nothing. Somehow, that was almost more terrifying than if there had been ferocious beasts bearing down on the hut.

It was a long night.

Yasha was exhausted by the time the dawn broke, her body aching in spite of the healing that Jester had given her. She could have used a long, hot bath to ease out the kinks, but that was a luxury that they did not have time for.

‘I’m going to _Scry_ again,’ Jester announced, as she set up the ritual.

‘Would it not be easier to wait until we are back…’ Yasha started, and then stopped, realizing that they had not yet discussed where they would be going next. There was no question as to what their next step should be. Everything else paled in comparison to the importance of finding Beau.

Jester ignored her. She had already arranged several of the small Traveler statuettes.

‘If the Traveler has already said that she is not on this Plane,’ Caleb mused, ‘Then you do not need to Scry, _ja_?’ Jester shot him the closest thing to a filthy look that Yasha had ever seen from the tiefling. Not that she disagreed with Caleb. If they already knew that Beau was on another Plane, then looking again would not achieve anything. As predicted, the _Scrying_ failed. Jester was wiping tears from her eyes as they waited for Caleb to finish transcribing the _Teleportation Circle_.

The Xhorhaus was quiet.

They had briefly discussed returning to Kamordah, but ultimately decided that there was no reason to. They had also discussed going to Zadash, and seeking the aid of the Cobalt Soul, but Caleb had argued that without Beau there, the Soul may not look too kindly on the disappearance of their Expositor.

Xhorhas, at least, was safe. At least, as safe a place as they had in the midst of a war, even if there was a ceasefire.

Yasha immediately went upstairs to her room. She sat on her bed, and stared at the wildflowers. Once upon a time, they might have brought her some comfort, but today; today, the pain was too raw, too fresh. She had already lost Zuala. Losing Beauregard…That would be a pain she would be unable to bear.

Now that she was alone, the grief and the pain of the last two days’ events overtook her. Her whole body shook, and unwilling tears began to flow from her eyes. Her sword clattered to the ground, and she dropped to her knees, trying not to let herself scream. Instead, her agony came out as a guttural sort of moan, and she was not surprised when there was a knock on the door ten seconds later.

Yasha was of an entire mind to ignore it, but when she heard the sound of Jester’s sad voice on the other side, she faltered. ‘Yasha, are you in there?’ as though she hadn’t just heard Yasha cry out in pain. Jester, who had extended a hand when Yasha needed it the most, who had painted a field of wildflowers just to make Yasha happy. Yasha would be a horrible person if she didn’t extend the same kindness in return.

She got to her feet, and pulled the door open. Jester’s face was wet with tears, and Yasha found herself pulling the tiefling in for a very, very long hug.

‘Will you sit with me while I _Commune_ with the Traveler?’ Jester asked, and Yasha was a little startled. She would not have expected that Jester would go to her, rather than to Nott, or to Fjord, or to Caleb, someone with whom she was a little closer.

‘Of course,’ she said, and watched as Jester set up the ritual. It was a little more involved than the _Scrying,_ but seemed to involve the same number of dicks.

For the second time in as many days, Yasha watched as a green-cloaked figure stepped out from solid matter, and stood before Jester.

‘I know…I know you can only do yes or no questions,’ she said, choking back a sob, ‘but we could really use your help right now.’ Yasha didn’t hear the Traveler’s answer, but she watched intently, seeing Jester’s expression grow a little calmer. ‘Is Beau alive?’ A pause. Jester let out a breath. ‘Okay, good. Is she on another Plane?’ Based on the look on Jester’s face, it seemed like it was another “yes.” There was a long pause, while Jester seemed to think about her final question. ‘Is she safe?’ Yasha watched Jester’s expression drop, and her own stomach seemed to fall from within her. She did not need to hear what the Traveler had said to know that they answer was not a positive one.

‘He said she’s…she’s in a dark place,’ Jester revealed, two minutes later, after the Traveler stepped back into the wall. ‘I don’t know, did I ask the wrong questions? I don’t think these things are going to help us find her. Maybe I should talk to Caduceus—’ Yasha put a gentle hand on Jester’s shoulder.

‘I’m sure Caduceus is already planning to talk to the Wildmother,’ she said. In fact, if she thought it would be any help whatsoever, she would have sat down cross-legged and attempted to talk to the Stormlord. The communication between them had never exactly been straight-forward.

‘We will find her,’ Yasha continued, in what was supposed to be a reassuring voice. It did not help, she was sure, that her eyes were red, and the tears had not yet stopped falling. ‘Whatever it takes, we will find her.’

‘I…’ Jester started. ‘Can I stay in here with you tonight? I haven’t…Since we’ve been traveling together, I’ve always slept with Beau, and I don’t want to sleep alone.’ Yasha felt a pang of something that might have been jealousy. She was not so unobservant that she hadn’t noticed the closeness between Beau and Jester in the weeks (days?) since her return. The thought awoke a strange sort of sadness in her, as though she had kept those broken feelings inside of herself for far too long, and had been beaten to the punch by the general progression of things.

‘Of course you can,’ Yasha said. It was barely ten in the morning, but she had not gotten a single moment of sleep the previous night, and Jester too looked as though she might’ve spent a lot of the night with her eyes and ears open.

Jester sniffed, and rested her head on Yasha’s shoulder. ‘We will find her,’ Yasha said again.

If she told herself enough, maybe eventually she would believe it.


	2. II

II

A bright light pierced through Beau’s eyelids.

She had woken up in far worse places than this; in the bed of a complete stranger, passed out in an alley or a gutter, handcuffed to a bench in an overcrowded prison cell. By comparison, even before she opened her eyes, she could tell she was somewhere warm. There was something rough and granular beneath her, kind of like sand. A desert, maybe?’

No, not a desert. She could smell the salt on the air; a distinctive smell she remembered vividly from the times they’d been to Nicodranas. Was she in Nicodranas?

Doubtful. She didn’t think Isharnai was gonna be that nice about putting her in exile. Or, maybe being so close and yet unable to see anyone she knew would be a different misery, a worse misery.

She opened her eyes, and got to her feet.

It was pretty nice, for exile.

The beach was wide, and sandy, with rolling blue waves. The sort of place where you could sit for hours (or maybe minutes) on end, meditating.

The hag had definitely held up her end of the bargain. Not that it had been a particularly favorable deal on Beau’s end. She didn’t exactly have any right to complain; she’d been the one to make the deal, after all.

It might have been a bit like hitting a flea with a _Fireball_ , but she just couldn’t take the risk that one of the rest of the group offered something that they couldn’t afford to lose. Beau was used to misery. She’d been born into misery, and it was just like coming home. She’d had a nice year or so of being happy, and…well, it was never going to last. May as well get it done quickly, rather than wait another year or two, when it would be ten times as painful.

Now, she was alone, just like she’d always been.

She threw herself back down in the sand, and sort of lay there for a while. It wasn’t as though anyone was waiting for her. There was a sharp, stabbing pain in her chest that was not the result of any physical wound, but rather the utter agony of what she had been forced to do.

It was for the best, really. Nott would be able to go back to her family, and the rest of the group, and the rest of them wouldn’t be bogged down by dead weight. They could get on with their lives, and not have to worry. No-one would have to sacrifice anything else. Beau didn’t bother to wipe the tears from her eyes.

After an hour or so of simply staring at the clear, blue sky, and very pointedly not trying to think about what she had done, Beau got to her feet. She had an almost full waterskin, and a dozen or so slices of pocket bacon that were of a questionable age.

_Should’ve asked Isharnai for some hard tack, or something_.

Maybe there was a town or something nearby. Unfortunately, without knowing where it was that the hag had sent her, it was impossible to know where she was, or to know where she had ended up. In lieu of any other options, Beau got up and started walking.

She climbed up the sand dunes found herself at the top of a grassy hill that overlooked a wide, green expanse. It was beautiful. Nothing like Kamordah at all. Probably not even anywhere near Kamordah. The sun was high enough in the sky that it would be a while before she could use it to navigate, or even figure out where she actually was in the world. It had been close to dusk when she’d gone into Isharnai’s hut, but that didn’t mean much; she could have been unconscious for a while, or on another continent, or any number of things that would have changed that.

She started walking.

There was no path, no indication that there were any towns or settlements nearby. The only thing she could do was keep walking until she found something.

Beau kept walking. Even after a few hours, during which time the rolling grassy hills morphed into flat grasslands, the sun remained high in the sky. Not only had she not seen anyone, she hadn’t seen any signs of humanoid life. There were no roads, no burnt out campfires, no abandoned buildings. A few insects buzzing around, and some scuffling movement that could have been something larger, but nothing that she could actually hold a conversation with.

She had a sudden, horrifying realization.

_Fuck_.

The deal had been to send her into exile. Beau was suddenly very aware just how literally the hag had taken the offer. She had not just been exiled from her friends, her family, her job, she had been exiled from everything. From everyone.

She dropped to her knees.

She was used to being alone.

But then, that wasn’t entirely true.

She was used to being lonely, but she wasn’t used to being alone. She was used to being able to spend a night with a stranger she’d never have to see again, to having drinks by herself at the bar, surrounded by half a dozen others in the same situation. But to be well and truly alone…alone with herself and every single dark thought that had ever entered her head. Well, that just fucking sucked.

That was her misery, freely given.

She kept walking.

As she walked, the rolling hills slowly turned to swampy marshland, then to cold tundra. There was no place like this, Beau was sure, anywhere on Exandria. During those long, slow days at the Cobalt Soul, she had read hundreds of books on the history and geography of the world. There was no place in the world she could recall that had this kind of drastic weather changes. Of course, there could have been magic involved. Or, just as likely, there could have been a place that she hadn’t heard of. It was a big world after all.

If it was a different Plane of existence, then she was pretty much fucked. She didn’t have the magic to get herself home, and if there was no-one else here…

Yeah. Pretty much fucked.

There was another fifty, or sixty or seventy years that she had left to live out her life, and she would have to do it in absolute isolation. That was, assuming she found a source of food and water, found somewhere to live that was more than just a hollow in a tree or a place to put her bedroll.

Speaking of…she was fucking exhausted. She had already _been_ exhausted stepping into Isharnai’s hut, and the emotional impact of having left her entire life behind was only just sort of starting to hit her. She dropped to her knees as huge, wracking sobs overcame her body.

She would never see her friends again. She had known it, of course, when making the deal, but there had been a disconnect between knowing it and actually processing it. She would never listen to Nott and Fjord bicker ever again, would never spend hours at the library with Caleb, or drink dead person tea with Caduceus. Would never watch Jester pray to the Traveler, or Yasha slice through enemies with a single carve of her sword. There was a different sort of pang in her chest, one that she couldn’t quite place.

She would never see her family again. Never be hugged by her mother, or scolded by her father (not a great loss, admittedly). Would never get to see her little brother grow up. One day, maybe, he would ask about her. She would just have to hope that the Mighty Nein would be able to remember enough to make up something good.

In the distance, she could see snow-peaked mountains.

Body and mind beyond the point of exhaustion, Beau curled into a ball, adjusting her coat in such a way that might offer some protection against the elements. No more dome to sleep in. She didn’t have the energy to go looking for her bedroll in her pack. It probably would have taken less than five minutes.

Eventually, sleep came to claim her.

…

Beau didn’t know how long it had been, when she woke. It still seemed to be daytime, though the cold wind had picked up, and a bitter chill had set in. Small flurries of snow had started to fall.

It should have been impossible.

She was within walking distance of a beach, there shouldn’t be any place that would get snow anywhere close to nearby. That only solidified the thought she’d had the previous day (or was it the same day? Whenever she’d last been awake, anyway), that she was no longer in a place that followed the laws of reality, that Isharnai had either sent her to another Plane of existence, or to some kind of pocket dimension, like inside the mouth of the Astral Dreadnought.

They’d used a Plane Shift circle to get out of there, but Beau didn’t think she’d be quite so lucky as to find something similar here. Even if she did, she was pretty sure that leaving this place would be against the rules of the deal she’d struck. Maybe it would reverse the…reverse the reversal of the curse. Or whatever.

Beau shouldered her pack, and kept walking.

She was vaguely aware of the fact that the walking grounded her. Every time she stopped, the enormity of everything overwhelmed her. As long as she kept walking, kept moving, she would be thinking about the things in front of her, rather than the things behind her. A future without the Mighty Nein in it. Though she’d only been with them less than a year, she could not imagine life without them.

Now, she didn’t have a choice.

After only an hour or so of walking, she stopped. Her stomach was growling with hunger, and her waterskin was almost empty. For all the diverse biomes that she’d seen so far, the only water she’d seen was the ocean, and though her survival skills weren’t great, she knew enough to be well aware that you weren’t supposed to drink salt water.

Snow, though…You could melt snow. It wasn’t ideal, but it would do until she could find a river or something.

The flurries weren’t nearly enough to fill her waterskin though, so Beau pushed on through towards the mountains. The snow would be thicker there, and easier to collect. At least, in theory. Beau didn’t exactly have a great deal of experience in surviving in the wilderness. Caduceus and Yasha would have had way more experience at that sort of thing.

As she moved through the frozen forest, the trees grew thicker and thicker, until Beau could no longer see which direction she was heading in. The trees here were blocking the snowfall, and though the trees were covered in a slick layer of frost, it would have taken hours to collect enough to fill her skin. No, better to head up to the mountains; at least there, she might find a cave that she could sleep in.

Rubbing her hands together, Beau started to climb the nearest tree that she could see. The canopy was packed so closely together she couldn’t tell how tall it was, but she was pretty sure she’d be able to leap across to another one until she found a high enough vantage point.

It was slow going.

Usually, she could just run right up trees like this, but the thing was so slick with ice that even with her speed, it was impossible. Half a dozen times, Beau slipped back down a few inches and had to re-secure her position on the tree. She had a shitton of rope in her pack, but without something to anchor it with, it would be useless.

If she was with Jester, the tiefling could have just _Dimension Door_ ed her to the top like it was nothing, could have _Polymorph_ ed her, or any number of other things. Their absence was like an ever-present knife in her chest, a knife that she had put there herself.

Unexpectedly, the tears came once more, but this time, she had no choice but to push through. She was fifty feet off the ground, arms, and legs, and basically every single part of her colder than the looks that Father had given her when he was disappointed, so pretty damn cold. Probably a bad time to be wearing a sleeveless coat and a crop top, but there was nothing else in her bag save the bedroll that would have been any help.

She kept climbing.

Eventually, she made it to the top of the canopy, giving her a decent vantage point over…well, over a lot of things. The forest was pretty damn big, and would probably take another few hours to traverse. Though, given how tightly packed together the trees were…It was ridiculous, but Beau thought she’d be able to make it through much quicker just by running across the top of the trees.

Given that she was a hundred feet up, it was a risky move, but it was a move that Beau needed to take. She would almost definitely get lost if she stayed down on the forest floor.

She ran.

Slowly, at first, just to make sure she had her footing, and then, once she knew that the leaves were dense enough to hold her weight, leaping as she was like a stone skipping across a pond, she ran a little faster.

An almighty roar stopped her in her tracks.

Beau stumbled to a stop, and crouched down in amongst the branches. It wasn’t much, but maybe—

_Fuck_.

An enormous, silver dragon was circling around the mountaintop. Beau had a brief flashback to getting half frozen to death by Gelidon, before remembering that that had been a white dragon, not a silver one. Silver dragons were supposed to be good. At least that’s what all the books had told her.

The dragon had definitely spotted her, though, a lone blue spot in amongst a sea of whitish green.

It began arcing down towards her.

_Fuckfuckfuck._

Beau scrambled to her feet, and found the closest branch she could that would take her weight. The dragon opens its jaws wide, and let out another almighty roar, accompanied by a soft sort of hissing sound.

At first, Beau thought that nothing had happened. Then, she realized that she couldn’t move. Her leg, which was halfway through stepping downwards, was like a plank of wood, collapsing underneath her.

_Fuckfuckfuck._

Her body whacked into one branch, and kept falling. With every branch that she hit, another dagger of pain shot through her. By the time she slammed into the ground, she was certain the most of her ribs were broken, but she couldn’t even groan in pain.

Blood dripped from her mouth, and the agony spread. Though she could barely even breath to begin with, it was getting harder by the second. Darkness pressed in from all sides. The paralysis faded, but her body was so broken, she couldn't move anyway.

_At least_ , Beau thought, as her eyes drifted shut, _at least she wouldn’t be alone for very long._


	3. III

III

When Yasha woke, it took her several moments to remember why she was feeling so sad. A sharp pain in her side told her that Jester was curled into her, horns pressing up against bare skin. The events of the last few days came back to hit her, all at once.

There was a light knock on the door, and Yasha realized suddenly what must have woken her. ‘Yes?’ she called out, wincing when Jester shifted at her side.

Fjord’s voice was muffled through the closed door. ‘Essek’s here,’ he said. The words seemed to evoke an urgency in Jester, who immediately shot to her feet, and looked away as she wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘Do you know how long we slept?’ she asked.

Yasha didn’t know. She didn’t think it would have been that long, if Essek was just arriving. She hadn’t even meant to fall asleep; it was just with both her and Jester lying there, exhausted…

She supposed that Caleb must have contacted Essek somehow. The Shadowhand’s house was not too far from here. Immediately, she felt stupid, and embarrassed. It should have been her first thought, to contact someone for help, but instead she had sequestered herself away to wallow in pity. Beau could have been dead by now, and here Yasha was, _sleeping_. It was like Zuala all over again. She had been tied up, screaming for help, ax at her neck, and Yasha had just…run away.

Yasha could not let the same thing happen again.

They met in the war room, and Yasha could tell from the look on Essek’s face that someone had already given him an overview of the situation. That Beau had made a deal with a hag and had been sent far, far away. That Jester had scryed, and tried to send a message, but that it had not worked. They didn’t know about the _Commune_ , though, and Jester’s voice was teary as she explained what the Traveler had told her. Or hadn’t told her, for that matter. They hadn’t really gotten that much information.

Caduceus, as it turned out, had done the same thing, and received similar answers from the Wildmother. The firbolg seemed very perturbed at this fact.

‘So,’ Caleb surmised. ‘We know that she is not on this Plane of existence, and is likely somewhere well away from civilization.’

Fjord frowned. ‘How do you figure that?’

‘That was the nature of the deal, was it not? Go into exile. As someone who has, uh…experimented with self-imposed exile, I think a main component of it is exile from everyone. Not just friends and family.’

Yasha could empathize with that. She had walked a similar path herself, some time ago, after awaking on the altar of the Stormlord, and before joining the carnival.

‘I would think,’ Essek surmised, ‘That this hag would want to be able to, ah…keep an eye on things. Would not want your friend to be able to escape this exile. I so not think that your friend is on another Plane.’

Yasha opened her mouth to argue, and so, to her surprise, did Caleb. Essek seemed to pre-empt both of them. ‘I misspoke,’ he said. ‘I do not think the hag would have taken the risk to send your friend to the Inner or the Outer Planes. From what you have told me, and from what I know of hags, she would not want to leave anything to chance.’

Yasha was confused. She did not know much about the other Planes, save that they existed, and she certainly didn’t know what Essek meant by “Inner and Outer” Planes.

‘It’s possible,’ Essek continued, ‘That the hag may have sent Beauregard to a pocket dimension; to a place from which she could be certain of exile, and so that…’ He seemed to hesitate. ‘So that she could observe, and revel in the misery that she created.’

It was a sobering thought, and there was several moments of silence as they all processed it.

‘So what,’ Fjord said. ‘Do we need to go back to the hut and look for some kind of…portable dimension? How do you even carry something like that around?’

‘Well we _have_ seen it before,’ Caleb offered. ‘The ah…’ He gave Essek a look. ‘The Happy Fun Ball. The Archmage’s Bane.’ There was another long silence. Yasha had not been inside the “Happy Fun Ball,” as they called it, but from what the rest of the group had said, it did not sound like a place where Beau would be safe. ‘Theoretically, I’m sure you would be able to create a pocket dimension inside of anything…there are some magics I have read about that do such things.’ He turned to Nott.

‘What did you take from the hut?’

Nott did not look ashamed in the slightest. They hadn’t discussed doing any looting, but Yasha had been around the group long enough to know that Nott would steal anything that wasn’t nailed down.

Nott rummaged through her bag, and pulled out a number of things; several vials of different-colored potions, several small statuettes, and a largish round orb.

‘May I see that.’ Essek gestured towards the orb, and it was less of a question than a directive. With some difficulty, the goblin lifted the orb (it seemed heavier than it looked, and Yasha wondered how she had managed to steal it in the first place without any of them noticing) and passed it to Essek. 

The Shadowhand examined it for some time, turning it over in his hands, before muttering a few words, and waving one of said hands across the top of it. Finally, looking satisfied, he set it down.

‘I think that this _is_ some kind of pocket dimension.’ Essek sent the orb gently down onto the table. ‘That would be consistent with your being unable to Scry on Beauregard, in addition to being unable to send a message. There is some chance that a message would go through if you sent it again.’

Jester looked at him, horrified. ‘This is happening because I didn’t _Send_ enough messages?!’ There was a fear and a pain in her voice that sent a dagger through Yasha’s heart. She did not like to hear her friends in pain, least of all Jester. The tiefling closed her eyes, and sent a message. ‘Hi Beau, it’s me, Jester. Please tell me if you can hear me, Essek thinks you might be in a pocket dimension and we’re trying so hard to get you out, I’m so sorry we’ve left you there for so long.’ It was well over twenty-five words.

There was another thirty seconds of silence, punctuated finally by a harsh cry from Jester, and a smaller cry from Yasha as sharp fingernails gripped at her arm. Jester was clutching her as though she was afraid to let go.

‘There was no response?’

Jester shook her head, even as she seemed to choke back tears. ‘I…she responded, but…all she said was “I’m sorry, Jester, I’m so sorry,” over and over again. She sounded so hurt, you guys.’ A horrified look crossed Jester’s face. ‘What if it’s _exactly_ like the Happy Fun Ball, and it’s been like…half a day for us, but it’s been fifty years for her? Ohmigod, we shouldn’t have slept!’

It was like a vice had gripped Yasha’s heart. What if they found Beau, and she had already spent her entire life in exile? That she was old, and withered, and dead or dying? That would be far more misery than any of them could handle. It was Fjord that put a hand to Jester’s shoulder.

‘We had to sleep,’ he reminded her. ‘Caleb needed to bring us back here, remember?’

Jester’s grip relaxed slightly at those words, though she was still holding tight enough to leave marks. ‘We could go into to the Happy Fun Ball by just touching it,’ Nott said. She walked to the table, and stared into the orb. It was a shiny copper color, opaque and smooth. It did not look unlike an overly large ball-bearing.

‘Go on then,’ Fjord said, a daring tone to his voice. Nott gave him a withering look, and touched the orb. Nothing happened.

Caleb looked to Essek. ‘I know of late it seems as though we have been asking you for endless favors. I am sorry to have to ask for one more.’ There was a question in his tone, even though he had not yet asked one, and Essek could not fail to notice.

The elf nodded. ‘I can Plane Shift you there,’ he said. ‘Thankfully, I have prepared that spell for today.’ Caleb gave a curious look, but Essek did not seem to notice. Yasha had long since accepted that there were things that would happen in the world that she did not have any knowledge about, and the secrets of the Bright Queen’s court was one of those things.

Essek reached beneath his robes, and pulled out a small metal rod. ‘It will take me some time to ensure that it is properly attuned to the pocket dimension,’ he said. ‘You should take that time to prepare yourselves.’

Yasha did not have a great deal to prepare. Her bag was still packed from their trip to Kamordah, and even then, she had never particularly carried around much to begin with. In lieu of anything else, she went to the roof with Caduceus, and helped him pick some tea leaves. ‘We won’t have time to get it ready to drink,’ he explained, ‘But it’s therapeutic anyway.’

Yasha did not disagree. A few of the leaves, she put inside her book of flowers. It was getting quite thick now, though she did not know if she would ever get the chance to return to the Iothlia Moorlands. Her journey had come so far since the time she had first started the book. She was no longer the same person, and her heart was no longer in the same place.

After half an hour or so, Essek called them back to the war room, and they stood in a circle around the orb, while the Shadowhand held the tuning fork aloft. A sigil had been sketched out on the wooden floor.

‘To ensure a safe arrival, we must all link hands,’ Essek instructed. Yasha took Jester’s hand on one side, and Caduceus’s hand on the other. A bright, white light encircled them.

There was darkness.

Then, there was light.

A burning orange sun burned high in the bright-blue sky.

It was a slight shock to the system, after being in Rosohna, and Essek immediately flinched. He adjusted his cloak to give himself some shade. Caduceus rummaged through his bag, and pulled out a large, straw hat.

‘Thank-you,’ Essek said, appreciatively, and set the hat on his head. It did not seem to block all the sun, but Essek looked a great deal more comfortable regardless. ‘Normally, I would return to Rosohna, but as you would be unable to leave without me, I feel as though it would be in my best interest to stay until you have located your friend.’ He looked to Jester. ‘I believe that if you _Scry_ now, you will be able to see her.’

Jester bit her lip, and nodded. She pulled a small mirror from her haversack, in addition to a scrap of cloth that Yasha recognized as coming from Beau’s sash. ‘You carry that with you?’ she asked, curious. Jester faltered.

‘I…I don’t know, it makes me feel safe.’

Yasha considered, briefly, that she had been away from the group for a long time. Clearly some things had happened that she had not been privy to. Beau and Jester had always been close, but…Things seemed different. For some reason, it made her feel sad, though which part of it exactly she felt sad about, she wasn’t quite sure.

‘Good luck,’ Yasha said, not sure of any way she could possibly help. Jester gave her a sad sort of smile. The burden of _Scrying_ , of seeing what no-one else saw was one she would volunteer to take on herself, if she had the power, just to save Jester from the pain.

Jester closed her eyes, and her whole body seemed to tense up. The whole group looked on, awkwardly. Finally, Jester opened her eyes, and there was a glassiness to them, as though tears were welling. ‘She’s here, she’s on this Plane,’ she said. ‘She…she looks hurt.’

‘But she’s alive,’ Yasha pressed. Jester nodded, and seemed to steel herself.

‘She looked like she was in some sort of cave.’

Yasha looked around, fulling taking note of their surroundings. They were on a patch of flat green grass, surrounded by rolling hills. In the distance, she could see a large, snow-capped peak.

Caleb followed her gaze. ‘That does look like the sort of place where we might find a cave,’ he said.

Jester looked doubtful. ‘If we sleep, maybe I could cast _Find the Path_ , but I don’t want to leave Beau on her own for any longer than we have to.’

‘But if we go the wrong way…’ Fjord said. Yasha could see what he meant. If they went the wrong way, then they would have to spend the time traveling anyway.

‘Could you _Teleport_ us?’ Caleb asked Essek. The Shadowhand looked as doubtful as Yasha had ever seen him. The hat probably didn’t help.

‘I could attempt it,’ he said. ‘But, being that it is a place of which I am not familiar, it may be unsuccessful.’

‘Let me cast _Commune_ again real quick,’ Caduceus suggested. ‘I can ask the Wildmother if it’s the right path to take.’ Yasha nodded. Even if it wasn’t, then they would at least know. There was a lot of asking of Gods going on. It was a pity that the Stormlord would not be of any help.

It took less than five minutes. Afterwards, Caduceus pulled his tall, lumbering frame to its full height, and stared in the direction of the mountain. Their path was clear.

‘Alright,’ Fjord said. ‘Let’s go save a friend.’


	4. IV

IV

When she woke, Beau was still lying on the forest floor. She didn’t know whether she’d been unconscious for two minutes, or two hours, but neither option was a particularly great one.

She tried to sit up, and was rewarded with the shifting of bone, and a sharp point of agony in her arm and in her chest.

Breathing heavily, lungs on fire, body frozen, she laid back down. If she stayed here, she was pretty sure she would freeze to death. If she moved, then she might die from a punctured lung, or from having broken what felt like every fucking bone in her body.

It didn’t take long to make a decision. If she was going to die, she sure as fuck wasn’t going to die alone in the woods, without having done anything to save herself. Even if she collapsed from exhaustion, or ran into the dragon again, or tripped and impaled herself on a stick, that was a better death than inaction. At least if she had shelter, she could take stock properly.

Beau bit her lip. It took three tries to get just to her knees, and four more to get from there to her feet. Even still, she clutched her staff, just so she didn’t fall back to the ground. A memory pierced the cloud of haze that was her brain; all those months ago, when she had lied to Molly and Yasha about needing the staff to walk. Then Yasha had picked her up one-handed, and hoisted her into a shoulder carry. What Beau wouldn’t give now for those strong arms holding her, carrying her to safety.

It took an hour or so to go less than a mile, but that was better than nothing. Even through that haze, Beau could tell that the forest was starting to thin out, and small, rocky cliffs were starting to pop up. She was pretty sure she could see a cave opening or two. She must’ve gotten further than she’d realized before the dragon attacked.

_Finally, some fucking good news._

The next few minutes or so were a bit of a blur, as the cold bit deeper and deeper into her skin. The fact that she could still feel the cold was a good thing. It was when she stopped feeling the cold that things were going to start getting really rough.

The cave she found was of a decent size; not so cramped that she couldn’t breathe, but not so big that it was getting cold.

The first thing she did was light a fire. It was an uncomfortable, painful endeavor, her ribs shifting this way and that as she fumbled with her tinderbox. There was enough dead wood surrounding the cave that she didn’t have to go too far to find firewood, and a few scrunched up pages of her journal were enough to get the fire started.

Next step, deal with the broken bones.

Adrenaline had helped get her here, but now that she had stopped moving, things were starting to get painful again. She’d broken enough ribs at the Cobalt Soul (and even a few beforehand) to know the feeling. Luckily, it didn’t seem like they were broken badly enough to puncture something.

‘Fuck,’ Beau spat, and blood splattered the ground. There was still clearly some internal damage. She coughed, and pain shot through her again. If Jester were here, she would have been healed in an instant. That warm light would have spread through her, like a drug. There was something not unlike a drug high that Beau felt every time someone healed her, and she missed it like it was a part of her. Or maybe it was Jester that she missed. That toothy grin, and those bright purple eyes, and the swishing tail.

It didn’t escape Beau’s notice that she was only thinking about Jester and Yasha. Not that she didn’t miss the others, too. Fjord and his steadfast leadership, Caduceus and his unwavering calm, Caleb and his unyielding tenacity, Nott and her…sticky fingers…Beau was kind of maybe running out of the brainpower to think of positive adjectives. She choked back a sob.

As though on cue, Beau felt a sudden tugging feeling in her head, unlike anything she’d felt before. _Hi Beau, it’s me, Jester. Please tell me if you can hear me, Essek thinks you might be in a pocket dimension and we’re trying_ —The message cut off suddenly, and Beau felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding. She had thought she’d never hear Jester’s voice again.

‘I’m sorry,’ Beau muttered. ‘I’m so sorry, Jester, I’m so sorry. Please…I’m so sorry.’ Beau desperately wished for Jester to send another message, just so she could hear the voice again, but nothing came. Beau couldn’t even be sure that her response had gotten through.

She laid there for a while, and she supposed she must have fallen asleep (or passed out) at one point. In any case, when she opened her eyes again there was something wrapped around her that made her think of arms. Strong, muscled arms, with pale skin, or with blue skin. Or maybe that was just her own wishful thinking.

It was her blanket. She couldn’t even remember putting it on.

The fire was now…not raging, but burning merrily, and she was warm enough that the blanket was a bit much. She threw it off, and made to sit up, with a mind to fill her stomach with as much pocket bacon as she could spare. After the whole ordeal of running across the treetops to get to the snow, she had forgotten to collect some of the stuff to melt. Teeth gritted, Beau started to pull herself up.

‘Don’t get up too quickly.’

_Motherfucker!_

Beau turned to see who it was that had spoken – surely there hadn’t been someone here this whole time – but the cave was dark enough that the person was obscured in shadows. The voice sounded sort of familiar, but then also, not really all that familiar at all.

‘Are you in my head?’

The voice laughed, and it was definitely a familiar laugh. Beau recognized it because it was what she heard every time Nott told a terrible joke, or Fjord did something stupid without thinking through the consequences. It was her own laugh.

‘Are you me?’

The figure came into the light, and Beau tried not to do a double take. The woman was dark-skinned, her bright blue eyes rimmed with kohl. Beau might have been in a lot of pain, but she was cognizant enough to recognize herself.

Only it wasn’t her.

While Beau wore the blue vestments of her rank, and the sleeveless coat she’d stolen from Avantika, and the boots she’d stolen from a dead Kryn warrior, this Beau was much more fancily dressed. The waistcoat and breeches looked expensive, and the piercings in her ears and eyebrow seemed to be solid gold. Beau not as who she was, but as who she could have been. Or who she could _be_ , maybe; this Beau looked a little older, maybe in her late twenties or early thirties.

‘So, what?’ Beau slurred. ‘Are you here to make me realize all the terrible mistakes I made in life?’

‘Nah,’ the other Beau said. ‘I think you’re doing a pretty good job of that yourself.’ Beau snorted, and a wave of pain washed through her. It wasn’t entirely untrue. Most recently, she was beginning to regret the part where she’d stormed into a hag’s hut, and made a deal without waiting to see if they could have offered her anything else. Because if there was one thing Beau definitely was good at, it was self-sacrifice driven by self-loathing.

It wasn’t untrue. Ever since she’d landed in this place – pocket dimension, Jester said? – she’d been regretting what she’d done. Only, if she went back now, then Nott’s curse would return. You couldn’t just reverse a sacrifice. That wasn’t how the world worked. Once you’d made a deal, you were stuck with the misery forever. Beau had enough experience with that, at least.

The mere fact that they were seemingly at least _trying_ to find her, though…that filled Beau with an unfamiliar feeling of warmth and acceptance. The sort of feeling that you were supposed to get from family, and yet she somehow never had.

‘So what, then? Is this me if I left the Mighty Nein? Went and became a…’ She peered at her mirror self. ‘A fucking douchebag?’

The Other Beau laughed, and Beau noted that it was a much more sinister sounding laugh. There was less humor in it. ‘This is you if you never met them. Skipped Trostenwald entirely and went north, or some shit like that. Did what you always do; fucking strangers, stealing shit, doing bad things to people just ‘cos you felt like it. These earrings you stole from some dude you robbed on the Glory Run Road. He said something about going to give them to his granddaughter.’

‘You’re full of shit,’ Beau muttered, and she rolled over so she didn’t have to face herself. She knew that her other self was lying. After all the things she’d done, she’d never once gone so low as resorting to highway robbery. Definitely not from some old dude.

‘If I’m full of shit, then what does that say about you?’

_I’m willing to admit my flaws_ , Beau almost said, but didn’t. Because she wasn’t entirely sure she actually _was_ at the point of admitting to her flaws. The events of the last couple of days had well and truly proven that.

The silence stuck to her like glue, and when she turned back over, the other Beau was gone. Beau snorted. She wasn’t sure whether it was her own mind playing tricks on her, or if this was part of Isharnai’s magic; exiled from everyone except herself, and all the hundreds of possible lives she could have lived.

She drifted off again for a couple of hours, and when she woken, her throat was dry, and it was starting to get cold again. She had forgotten, again, to go and get the fucking snow, and now, the fire was down to its last embers.

Fists clenched, teeth gritted, she pulled herself up, swaying even with the staff. She collected several handfuls of snow in both her waterskin, and in the metal cup that hung off her pack. It was a pity that Caduceus carried most of the cooking implements. This, at least, would keep her going for the rest of the day.

While she was there, she picked up some more firewood, knowing that the supply would potentially have to keep her going for a while.

It took a long time to get the fire back up to where it was, and after that, the snow melted within minutes. Beau took a few greedy sips, and saved the rest for later. The more she had to go outside, the longer it would take for her wounds to heal.

Eventually, though, she was going to have to deal with the food issue. The only creature she’d seen so far in this place was the fucking dragon that had almost killed her, and she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to win that fight, let alone find a way to eat it.

She took a few small bites out of her pocket bacon, desperately wishing she had something that was a little more filling. Then, she closed her eyes again, not intending to go to sleep, but somehow ending up there anyway.

She woke to the sound of giggling.

She sighed, and turned. ‘What now, is this the me that got hit on the head when she was a kid?’

This figure was very different to the last one. Her long hair was in dark ringlets, and she wore a pale yellow dress that could have been called “frilly.” Her blue eyes were shining, and she looked…Beau blinked to make sure she wasn’t seeing things (at least any more than she already thought she was). She looked happy.

‘No, silly, I’m the Beau that was never cursed.’

Beau stared. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she said, after a short while.

‘Why not?’ The other Beau seemed to flutter her eyelashes, but that might have just been a trick of the light.

‘Because,’ Beau said, steeling herself. ‘Because my entire existence was predicated on that stupid fucking curse. Without the curse, dad never builds the winery, never gets the girl, they never have me. No curse, no Beau.’ Though she hadn’t said _that_ much, the extended speaking session made her ribs ache. Maybe there was another kind of heartache in there.

‘Or,’ the other Beau said. ‘Maybe this is the Beau where your father never went to the witch, and used every ounce of stubbornness and persistence that he passed onto his daughter to build a business on his own merits, and in doing so, drew the attention of the woman he so dearly loved.’

Beau rolled her eyes. She was pretty sure she’d seen a play like this once. Not in Kamordah; the theatre was far too fancy to ever make it to somewhere like the Mudfields. It had been one Barren Eve, and they had made the journey to Zadash (albeit under heavy protection; her father had hired several armed guards for the occasion). They’d stayed at some fancy inn (probably the _Pillow Trove_ , now that she thought about it), and the only time Beau had been permitted to leave the room was the night she was stuffed into an ugly yellow dress, and dragged to watch a (frankly very boring) story about a man forced to face his missteps in life. Somehow, her father had failed to see the irony in the situation.

Now here was Beau, almost definitely hallucinating, probably pretty close to death, having visions of all the people she could have been if not for the machinations of Isharnai.

She closed her eyes for a few more hours, and when she woke, the other Beau was gone. In the time that she slept, the pain in her arm and in her ribs had not lessened, and though she was sure she’d done hardly anything except sleep since she’d gotten to the cave, with each waking moment, she felt more and more exhausted, more and more like the world (or the pocket dimension) was slipping away.

Three hours later, when six figures entered the cave, and a bright-blue, pink haversack carrying figure dropped to her side, she couldn’t even open her eyes.


	5. V

V

They’d been walking for six hours, and the mountain hardly seemed to get any closer. Even Essek had dropped his veil of elegance and was walking with the rest of them, as opposed to his usual gliding.

Even then, he walked with a poise and grace that none of the rest of them could manage, and, while the rest of them sweated in the heat, seemed to maintain an elegant composure.

They stopped for a very brief rest underneath a tall tree; for the first few hours, it had been nothing but hills, but it had flattened out a bit into a grassy plain, with a few trees dotted around the place. Not too far ahead of them, Yasha could see a very dense-looking forest that surrounded the snow-capped mountains.

‘I’m not, ah…I don’t really have a lot of experience in this sort of thing,’ Fjord said. ‘But it seems a bit warm for there to be snow.’

Caleb wiped sweat from his brow. ‘ _Ja_ , it is. I do not think that this is a natural climate, though. Perhaps there are magics that ensure the weather behaves as it does.’ He looked up towards the mountain. ‘Or perhaps there is something else that is happening to cause it.’ He shared a glance with Essek, and they both looked suitably concerned.

‘Is there something you would like to tell the rest of us?’ Fjord asked. His tone was polite, but Yasha sensed some minor impatience.

Whereas Caleb hesitated, Essek did not. He turned to the rest of the group, and said, ‘There are some species of dragon that are known to have some control over the weather.’

An awkward sort of silence passed over the group. Yasha could not help but turn to Jester, who looked utterly terrified. ‘Dragon?’ she whispered. ‘What sort of dragon?’

Essek thought on the matter for a moment. ‘For this sort of manipulation, I would suggest perhaps white or silver. Though it is not unheard of for bronze dragons to alter the landscape in such a way.’

Jester seemed to relax slightly. Though she had not been there, Yasha knew Jester was remembering the blue dragon that she had faced down in the Happy Fun Ball. Not that a white dragon was any better news. The type of dragon, Yasha knew (though once again, she hadn’t been there) that the Mighty Nein had stolen Iceflex from, the dragon that had almost killed Beau.

So many harrowing, near death escapes that Yasha had missed. She was determined not to miss any more of them.

That was all, of course, contingent on the assumption that they got Beau back. If they didn’t…well, her plans would change. She had already lost Zuala and Molly, she didn’t…she couldn’t lose someone else, too. Especially not Beau. That would be too much.

As they reached the edge of the forest, Caleb stopped them. ‘I have an idea,’ he said. ‘Jester. I can turn myself into an eagle, and if you ride on my back, we will be able to move much faster.’

‘But Caleb, I can _Polymorph_ too—’

‘ _Ja_ ,’ Caleb nodded, ‘But neither of us can cast spells while we are _Polymorph_ ed, can we?’ Jester shook her head. ‘If I fly near the mountains, then you can cast _Locate Object_ on Beauregard’s staff, perhaps.’

‘Could you make yourself go faster?’ Yasha found herself asking. She knew that Caleb possessed that magic, but she was not experienced enough in the arcane to know whether or not it would work while he was _Polymorph_ ed. Caleb shook his head.

‘I, ah, must be concentrating on the _Polymorph_ ,’ he said. ‘Even if someone else could cast it on me, or if I could _Polymorph_ someone else, it only lasts a minute, and I would not want to be so high up when it ended.’

‘Would an extra person slow you down?’ Yasha asked, before she even realized what she was saying. Not that she would have been any help up there. She just wanted to be doing _something_.

‘ _Ja_ , it would.’

They did not spend long arguing about it. Time was of the essence, and this was the fastest way that any of them could think of.

Yasha blinked, and there was a giant eagle before her, stretching its wings wide, and Jester was climbing on the back of it. ‘Good luck,’ she found herself saying, even though she had long since stopped believing in luck.

They watched as the eagle took off in the direction of the mountain. Yasha did not like standing around. She paced through the light scattering of snow that surrounded the outskirts of the forest, melting it into mush.

It was half an hour before anything interesting happened. Yasha heard Jester’s voice in her head. _Yasha, I think we’ve found her but we can’t get there from the air so we’re coming back down-Oh fuck!_

The message cut off before Jester had even finished, and before Yasha could even wonder what had gone wrong, she heard the enormous roar. Her heart jumped as an enormous silver dragon sped after the eagle that was flying back in the group’s direction. The eagle was a mere pin-prick in the sky compared to the dragon.

Yasha drew her sword.

Fjord put out his own hand and summoned the magical broadsword.

The eagle and the tiefling landed haphazardly, and Jester had barely had time to dismount before Caleb reverted to his human form.

The dragon crash-landed into the trees. This close, Yasha could see a horrific looking scar that went from its cheek to the edge of its wing. It seemed to move with a limp, and its breath came in a ragged hitch. It opened its mouth to breathe. It coughed and spluttered.

‘Look at its neck,’ Caduceus called out. Yasha had not noticed anything until he mentioned it, but now that he had, she could see the collar that seemed to almost blend in with broken, silver scales. Was this dragon someone’s pet?

Before they could discuss what to do, though, the dragon seemed to have shaken through whatever issues it might have had. The jaws seemed to unhinge as it let out a burst of breath that seemed to freeze on contact. Yasha could not dodge, could not move, could only try to steel herself against the ice that pierced her veins. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much, but she was still standing.

She looked around, and realized that the rest of the group was still up. Looking a little worse for wear, perhaps, but still up. The injury must have weakened the dragon’s attacks.

There was a moment of silence, and then…

They all seemed to move at once, Jester with her Spiritual Weapon, and Caduceus with a _Sacred Flame_ , and Caleb with a _Fireball_.

Yasha, for her part, did not need to think. She let the grief and the rage and everything else wash over her, and the only thing in her mind was the enormous silver dragon that was blocking her path to Beau.

As she moved up close, she dodged two of its claws, barely aware enough to be thankful for the breastplate that they glided off. Skingorger bit into a patch that was free from scales, and looked like it might have been a previous injury.

The next attack from the dragon, Yasha was not so lucky. Enormous jaws bit down on her, and her blood pulsed with pain and rage. It took everything she had in her to force the head away, and stab down into the throat, but even still, there were a couple of teeth that remained behind, wedged into her shoulder. She moved to strike again, before realizing that the dragon was dead. With her last strike, she had pierced its neck, and torn straight across its jugular vein. She looked down, and realized she was soaked in dragon’s blood, and also her own blood.

_Oh_.

She sheathed the Skingorger.

‘Yasha!’ Jester ran up to her. ‘Yasha, are you okay?’ Jester went to put her hands to Yasha’s shoulder, but Yasha put a hand up.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Save it for Beau.’ She had slept through the night with much worse injuries than a dragon bite. She did, however, rip the teeth from her shoulder. They didn’t waste time with a rest.

They ran.

Jester took the lead, with Caleb’s keen mind providing directions as to where the tiefling’s _Locate Creature_ spell had actually pinged. It took almost an hour to make it to a small cave. ‘In here, in here!’ Jester said. She did not stop to wait for anyone, simply barging in.

Yasha was second through the door, and it took a moment for her to process the scene. Beau was on the ground, wrapped in a blanket, but either asleep or unconscious. Jester was at her side. There were the remains of a fire next to the bedroll, but it seemed to have long since burned out.

Yasha put a hand to Beau’s cheek. It was ice cold.

Jester was already casting _Cure Wounds_. A split second of fear crossed Yasha’s mind before the spell seemed to take, and Beau’s cheeks began to take on some color. It wasn’t until they began to darken that Yasha realized just how unnaturally pale they had been. Not moving her hand, Yasha let her own healing magic flow, comparatively paltry compared to Jester’s.

‘Can we _Plane Shift_ her back?’ Jester asked Essek. They were all crowded into the tiny cave, now. Essek looked mildly uncomfortable at this.

‘I do not think she should travel at this point,’ Essek said. ‘If something were to go wrong, then she may not survive. We should wait until morning, and assess her health.’

No-one seemed to want to disagree. They would be more comfortable, Yasha knew, back in Xhorhas, but if it was a matter of Beau’s safety, then there was really no other option. She let her hand stroke Beau’s cheek. It was warmer now, but the eyes were still closed.

‘I will put up the dome,’ Caleb said, as he pulled out one of his spell books. ‘Unless you have a different trick up your sleeve.’

‘I do,’ Essek said. He pulled his own spell book out, as if from nowhere, along with a few components from a pouch under his cloak. He spent a minute or so muttering words under his breath (Yasha could not help but notice the way Caleb was watching closely), and drew a rectangle in the air. A shimmering portal opened up. ‘Come inside,’ he said, and disappeared through the portal.

Without even stopping to discuss it with the rest of the group, Yasha took Beau in her arms, and followed through the doorway.

Like Essek’s house proper, the room smelled of herbs and burning. A bit like the smell Yasha got sometimes when the Stormlord wanted her to do something. The décor also seemed much the same, with stone walls and glass steps, and round rooms. A small table of pastries was surrounded by armchairs.

‘This is, ah…something of my own pocket mansion,’ Essek told them. ‘It only comes into existence when I call for it, and only lasts for a short while, but we should be able to rest here. There are spectral servants, if you are hungry. A little better than cheese and biscuits, I hope.’ Yasha wasn’t sure, but the wizard sounded almost…nervous. As though worried about what their response might be.

Caleb put a hand over Essek’s. ‘Thank-you,’ he said, sincerely.

‘Is there a bed?’ Jester asked. She hadn’t even looked towards the table of pastries. Hadn’t taken her eyes off of Yasha, and the form still limp in her arms.

Essek waved a hand, and a ghostly looking servant appeared before them. They followed the spectral figure to a large room not far from the main entrance that Yasha suspected had only just been added to the place.

Inside the room was a very large bed, and not a lot else. Yasha lay Beau down in the middle of it, and pulled the covers around her. She stirred slightly, but did not wake, which, from what Yasha could tell, was a good thing. She needed the rest, physically, mentally and emotionally.

They all did.

‘We should let her get some rest,’ Caduceus said. There seemed to be a moment of unspoken communication between him, Caleb and Fjord, because they did not linger, and Caleb took Nott by the hand, and (much to the goblin’s disdain) led her out of the room.

Yasha was half of a mind to just crawl right in next to Beau and fall asleep. She was still hesitating when Jester climbed in behind Beau, and wrapped an arm around her. ‘What are you doing?’

‘It’s silly,’ Jester said. ‘I mean, I know she’s unconscious, but I just want her to know that she’s…safe.’ There had been a slight pause before the word “safe,” and Yasha wondered what Jester might have planned to say. She looked a little guilty. ‘And maybe technically I feel like if I don’t hold her then she might run away again, and I know it’s so selfish, and I can’t force someone to stay if I don’t want to but I can’t lose her again Yasha.’ Jester spoke very fast, and Yasha only just now realized that the tiefling was crying.

She reached out, and brushed a tear from Jester’s cheek. ‘I don’t think anyone would judge you for wanting to make sure that Beau is safe,’ she said.

‘Will you…’ Jester hesitated. ‘Will you stay here too?’

‘Of course,’ Yasha said. She climbed into the bed next to Beau, and, though she didn’t even remember closing her eyes, soon she too drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not how I envisioned these people getting into bed together.


	6. VI

VI

Something sharp was poking into Beau’s shoulder.

She had probably fallen asleep against a rock or a stick or something that was probably going to leave a mark. She groaned slightly, and tried to push it out of the way. Not only did it not move, but it gave a little yelp, and said, ‘Beau!’ in Jester’s voice.

Man, those hallucinations were getting worse.

After all, Jester couldn’t be there. Beau had left Jester behind outside of a hag’s hut in the shadow of Mount Mentiri. No, Beau was alone with only her darkest memories, in a cave. Alone with…with a pillow, and a thick comforter, and, now that she thought about it, something heavy pressing in at the front, as well as behind. Something heavy that was breathing.

Beau opened her eyes.

She was in an unfamiliar looking room, in an unfamiliar looking bet. The other people in the bed, though, were anything but unfamiliar. Jester, apparently was lying behind her, and Yasha was lying in front of her (Beau would be lying if she said she hadn’t had this dream before).

‘Beau,’ came Jester’s voice again, and Beau rolled over to her back. She expected to feel the pain shoot through her, but it was far less than it should have been. There was still an ever-present ache, but the ribs that had been broken seemed to have been healed.

‘Hey, Jes,’ Beau murmured. She couldn’t quite let herself meet Jester’s gaze. No such luck. Jester grabbed her by the shoulder, and rolled her over. Lavender eyes were swimming with tears.

‘Are you okay?’

‘I think so.’ Beau frowned. ‘Where are we?’

‘Essek cast this spell that made a whole house, because he didn’t think we should move you while you were injured. It’s like a pocket dimension, so really, when you think about it, we’re in a pocket dimension in a pocket dimension.’

Beau stared at her. She didn’t know what to say. Clearly she was missing some time, but for the life of her, she couldn’t imagine what could have happened to take her from being alone, near death on the cold hard ground of a cave, to alive, with two very attractive women in a bed in a pocket dimension.

Jester’s words seemed to have woken Yasha, who stirred at Beau’s side. Beau’s heart caught in her chest. She realized, very suddenly, that she would have to _explain_ things to her friends. She would have to tell them about the deal that she had made, and everything that had followed.

Maybe she’d be able to lie. Maybe she’d be able to tell them that she’d just been kind of a bitch, and had pissed off Isharnai so much that the hag would rather trap her in another dimension than continue to deal with her.

‘Beau?’ Yasha’s voice was soft, and more than a little fearful. As though she was worried what Beau’s reaction might be to this whole situation. That alone told Beau that she wouldn’t be able to lie her way out of this. That Isharnai had told them at least something that was approaching the truth, if not the whole truth.

Of course. It would have made the Mighty Nein far more miserable to know that she had volunteered to walk away than if it had happened for any other reason.

Beau swallowed. She was so fucking thirsty.

‘I know,’ she said. ‘I know you guys want to know what happened, but I think it’d be better if we waited until we were back at the Xhorhaus.’ It wasn’t just that she was putting off the inevitable pain of seeing the looks on their faces when they found out the truth of what she had done. She just didn’t have the strength to have to talk to anyone about it more than once.

Jester did not seem to be happy with that, but to Beau’s surprise, Yasha did not argue, and even gave Jester a quieting sort of look when the tiefling tried to press matters. Yasha, of all people, knew a thing or two about leaving everything behind.

It was only as they made to leave the room that Beau noticed the still-bloody wound in Yasha’s shoulder. A wound that looked remarkably like it had come from dragons’ teeth. ‘Yash,’ she said. Yasha followed her gaze, frowning, as though she’d only just noticed the injury.

‘It’s nothing,’ Yasha said. She put a hand to her own shoulder, and a warm, glowing light seemed to course through her. Beau could not tear her eyes away. _Had they fought the dragon?_

That question was suddenly overshadowed by the painful growl of her stomach, and the realization of just how parched her throat was. It hadn’t been that long in the grand scheme of things, but apparently falling from a great height and dragging yourself to safety was something that made you hungry.

Jester held out a hand. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We’ll get you some food.’

That sounded like a very good idea. Maybe with food in her stomach, Beau might be able to get her head on a little straighter than it presently was. Not that it was exactly a high bar. When you were at rock bottom, there weren’t many more places you could go. Somehow, though, she’d always managed to find a way to keep digging.

The rest of the group were in the dining room, as though waiting for her. Beau kept her gaze downward as she entered the room. She vaguely suspected that Jester might have _Sent_ a stealthy message to get them there.

‘How are you feeling?’ Fjord asked, in a voice that very much sounded as though he was stepping on eggshells.

‘Fine,’ Beau said, shortly. It wasn’t a complete lie. Physically, she mostly felt okay; there were some aches and bruises, plus a rib that might have still been a bit cracked, but otherwise, she’d definitely been in worse physical shape.

She could tell that they didn’t believe her, but none of them called her out on it, for which Beau was supremely grateful. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have in Essek’s pocket mansion. It wasn’t a conversation she particularly wanted to have at all, but she knew that they were eventually going to call her on it.

A spectral servant brought a tankard of water, and a meal of meat, fruit and bread. Beau picked at the food slowly, all too familiar with what could happen when you ate food too quickly on an empty stomach. She was hyperaware of several sets of eyes burning into her. ‘Will you stop fucking staring?’ she snapped, and immediately felt like a dick. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. None of them said anything, which somehow made it worse. Maybe if she was a big enough of a dick, they’d kick her out of the group anyway.

The tension as they packed up their gear was palpable. Beau shouldered her pack, and slung her staff across her back. She was trying so godsdamned hard not to meet any of their gazes, but it was difficult.

Instead, she took Caleb’s hand on one side, and Nott’s hand on the other, purposefully ignoring the hand that Jester held out to her. She felt even more like a dick, then, and tried not to pay attention to the hurt expression on Jester’s face. If Jester hated her, then maybe all of this would be easier.

In Rosohna, things were the same. Beau wasn’t sure why she’d expected anything to be different. In the grand scheme of things, they hadn’t been gone that long. She could be gone for years, and nothing would change. Similarly, the Xhorhaus was as they had left it. There was a slight smell of must that always seemed to accompany long stretches of absence (plus a smattering of mould in the hot tub that, for some reason delighted Caduceus), but apart from that…

Beau went upstairs, very much aware of the several sets of eyes that followed her, and the much fewer sets of footsteps.

They seemed to linger at the door after she walked in. She didn’t even bother turning around. ‘Are you…are you coming in, or staying out?’

‘Is it okay if we come in?’ Jester. Not that she’d expected anyone else. They’d probably drawn straws to see who had to go and have the Conversation.

Okay, that wasn’t fair to Jester. Jester was compassionate enough, when she wanted to be. ‘It’s your bedroom too,’ Beau said. Her voice cracked slightly. She went and sat on the edge of the bed, not failing to notice the way unwelcome tears were starting to press at the corner of her eyes.

Jester walked in, and, to Beau’s surprise, so did Yasha. Yasha had never particularly been one for the more “emotional” conversations. She would’ve put her money on Fjord.

Jester stepped forward, hesitant. ‘Can I…Can I hug you, Beau?’

‘Sure,’ Beau said, gruffly. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t find some comfort in strong arms wrapped around her. It was kinda pathetic. Jester ran forward, and hugged her.

‘Oh Beau, we were so worried. The hag said that you’d made a deal that you’d go away and never come back, so we had to kill her and then we found out you were inside this orb that she kept in the hut, and…’ Now that she’d gotten started on telling the story, Beau knew that she would not stop. She chanced a glance towards Yasha, who was looking at Beau, rather than at Jester, ‘…and then Caleb _Polymorphed_ into an eagle but this _dragon_ came after us…’

‘You killed the hag _and_ the dragon?’ Beau had maybe sort of known the dragon, but Isharnai, too? That was too much.

‘I mean, yeah…’

‘Why?’ she croaked.

‘Why what?’ Jester looked confused. She looked _hurt_ , and that, more than anything else, hurt Beau. They didn’t know. They didn’t _know_.

‘Why would you come for me? Why would you put yourselves in so much danger?’

Yasha frowned. ‘Beau, why wouldn’t we come for you?’

‘Because I’m not that important!’ Beau yelled, the words leaving her mouth before she’d been able to stop herself. The words that had been running around her head for the last week or so. She wasn’t important enough to stick around, not powerful enough to be of any real long-term help to the rest of the group. She certainly wasn’t so important that the rest of them should have risked their lives fighting a hag and a dragon just to get her back. There were better things that they could have been doing, like getting Nott back in her body, or clearing the curse from Caduceus’s home.

Yasha stared at her. Horrified. ‘Beau, you are important to me.’ There was a short pause. ‘To us.’ Jester didn’t say anything. The eyes that had been steadily swimming with tears were now clenched shut. Beau put a hand to her shoulder, and Jester pushed it away. Fuck.

‘Is that why you did this?’ Jester asked, her voice trembling. ‘Because you didn’t think you were important to us?’

‘I—’ Beau realized suddenly that there was no answer that she could give to that question without hurting her friends. The fact that they _had_ killed the hag, that they _had_ gone to the metaphorical ends of Exandria to find her, that they had killed a fucking dragon…Clearly there were some things that maybe she’d sort of missed. ‘I didn’t realize how much you cared,’ she muttered, finally. It sounded far more sarcastic than she had intended, but that had always been a problem, people either taking her sarcasm at face value, or them thinking her sincerity was just her being an asshole.

‘Of course we care, Beau.’ Yasha’s hand stroked her cheek, far more gently than any stranger would have expected from the woman. ‘How could you think we wouldn’t?’ She gave a quick glance towards Jester. As though she meant the two of them, more than the rest of the group.

Beau faltered.

This was it. That one thing, more than anything else that she’d been bottling up ever since it had happened.

‘I said I didn’t want to go back.’ If she hadn’t felt her mouth move, hadn’t seen the slight intake of breath from Yasha, she wouldn’t have been sure she’d said it, even choked as it was with a whispery sort of sob. ‘I didn’t want to go back there, and…’

The silence was more telling than any words would have been.

_And you made me go back._

Any progress she might have made in life had been cut down in one fell swoop by a simple conversation with her father. Any worth, any import she might have had was utterly destroyed by a conversation that, by his standards, had almost been cordial. The Beau that had walked into that hag’s hut had been in a lower place than Beau had been in years. There was a difference, though, between knowing that, and being able to do something about it.

‘We should have listened to you,’ Jester whispered. Her voice sounded strained, but her eyes were open, even if they were still wet. ‘We should have just gone straight to Isharnai’s house, we didn’t need to go to…’ She swallowed. ‘We didn’t need to talk to your dad.’

It was kind of validating, having someone say it out loud.

‘Ever since I left there, things have been…things have been getting better, and better, and all it fucking took was a single godsdamned visit, and I feel like I’m a fucking kid again.’ She put her head in her hands. ‘ _Fuck_.’ There was an awkward sort of silence. Beau did not have the words to explain what it had been like growing up there, about the things he had said and done, and the everlasting effect it had had on her.

Yasha put a hand on her back. It was a warm, comforting sort of thing that said far more than any words could.

A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over Beau, the toil of the past few days seemingly hit her all at once. ‘I…I need to fucking sleep.’ She paused. Bit her lip. ‘Would you guys, uh…would it be okay if you stayed with me?’

‘Of course, Beau,’ Yasha said, immediately. Jester gave a soft sort of smile that Beau couldn’t help but return, and threaded their fingers together.

Beau didn’t know where she was going to end up, or where she needed to go, or what she was going to find when she got there, but at the very least, maybe she wouldn’t be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why so many of these things I write end with people going to sleep.


End file.
